


The Skeletons of Bushwick

by jeremy_russell



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: And a damn good one, Derek's an author, M/M, Seven Years Later, Will's a teacher, Will's gotten in touch with his emotional side, bitty's a good friend btw, but just hang tight, duh - Freeform, it's a little OOC for him, like an irresponsible mom friend, you'll see some emotional development in him
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-13 10:50:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12982470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeremy_russell/pseuds/jeremy_russell
Summary: Dex and Nursey are in the same city but are worlds apart.





	1. Room 316

“Mr. P, can you bring us cake tomorrow?”

“Why would I bring you a cake, P.J.?”

“Because you love us!”

There were giggles across the room, “yeah Mr. P! You love us!” Ayesha added.

Will deadpanned across the room at his students. They looked at him with excited anticipation. Eventually, he broke.

“Finish your free response questions and we’ll see.” Both parties knew that cake was coming tomorrow, but there was a renewed enthusiasm within the classroom. Students focused on finishing their exit tickets about the characterization of Scout in _To Kill a Mockingbird_. Will circulated around the room, looking over shoulders at his student’s work. They all seemed to get it, which was always a fulfilling feeling for Will. He glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was nearly time to go.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Will started up, “let me get eyes up here and pencils down in 3, 2, 1.”

He scanned the room and waited for his students to meet his command.

“Thank you. Now, take the next thirty seconds to silently pack up your stuff, but leave your exit table out.”

His students met these expectations like clockwork. At this point, standing in front of a classroom and delivering to students felt like second nature to Will. It took seven years, but each year brought more comfort.

The bell rung, but his students didn’t move. Will moved to the door of his classroom. He started to hear the rumble of students leaving for the day.

“Koree, your row may turn in your exit tickets and head out.”

Row by row, exit ticket by exit ticket, Will’s classroom emptied out. He high-fived every student on their way out, telling them to have a great day. A majority of his female students hugged him and his male students pulled him into a one-handed hug.

“Have a good day Mr. P!”

“You too, Sean!”

Will closed the door and moved to his desk. He was planning on grading the work his students did that day, heading to the gym, and then head home to a dinner of leftovers.

But, as he knew, being a teacher rarely meant he stuck to any type of schedule. There was a knock at the door and Will looked up to see a student.

He opened up the door, preparing his speech about giving teachers time to breathe away from students that he had had to give hundreds of thousands of times. But, again, being a teacher rarely meant the same situation could be experienced two times. Khadija, his student from three years ago, now a sophomore, was teary-eyed and looked extremely hurt.

“Khadija, honey, what’s wrong?”

She came in and hugged Will. At the start of his career, he would've broken the hug immediately, knowing that this was probably against the rules. Hell, two years ago he would've done the same thing. But, this was Khadija. She'd share a lot with him and he felt happy she trusted him. 

“Marcus broke up with me.”

He figured this was probably why she was crying. She and Marcus had started to date in his class three years ago and had been going strong since then. Until today, apparently.

“I’m sorry. Did he say why?”

Khadija shook her head, too upset to say anything.

“Do you need anything right now? Can I get you anything?”

She shook her head again but just kept hugging Will.

He stood there just hugging her for a few moments, letting her cry. After a shaky breath, she said “have you ever felt like you loved someone so much more than they loved you? And-- and you feel like you have to-- to try anything to make them love you as much as they love you?”

Her words took Will back, because, yes, he had. But, the moment at hand called for his full attention, so he brought himself back and told Khadija what got him through this feeling.

“Honey, people love in so many different ways. We can’t tell people how to love us and people can’t tell us how to love them. Marcus just loves you in the best way he knows how.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Will searched for the words, “just because he doesn’t love you in the way you love him, doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you.”

He felt her sigh against his chest.

“I know this helping right now, but I want you to keep thinking about that, okay?”

“Thank you, Mr. P.”

“You’re welcome, Dija. Now, go home. I gotta go work out.”

She smiled and left the room.

As he always did, Will reflected on his day. His kids learned what they needed to. His lesson was as close to perfect as he could get it. His classroom management system was run like a fine-tuned machine. Will knew, to an extent, that these things would come easily to him. His personality leant itself to being as close to a perfectionist as was possible, and these were things that he could learn to _almost_  perfect. He was often the example for new teachers on his campus.

Where Will knew he had to work on himself was in building relationships with his students. Before college, Will was terrible at building genuine relationships with people. Friends in middle and high school fizzled out and were now just random notifications on his Facebook. Even in college, if he wasn’t around his team nearly 24/7 for four years, Will wouldn’t have the friends from college he has now, and even then, he stays in constant contact with only three of them. Facebook allowed him to keep up with nearly everyone on the team, but Chowder, Bitty, and Jack by association were the only ones he talked to nearly every day.

In their first year out of college, Chowder insisted on daily phone calls from Will to check-in on his day. Will was convinced that if it wasn’t for Chowder, he’d probably would’ve quit twenty times over that first year. Every week it seemed like there was a breakdown; a student called him a name, someone threw something at him, and an administrator told him he wasn’t doing a good job, Chowder was there for it all. Chowder had settled in Austin, first hopping around start-ups as their tech guy, then eventually working his way into a solid position as a Director of Technology.

For as much as Chowder helped with his professional life, Will always felt a little awkward bringing personal issues to him. For that, he turned to Bitty, and, by association, Jack. Will’s Gay Crisis™ of his junior year was coached through by Bitty. He had been there for him the entire time, with pies, advice, and support. He started small, coming out to his close friends, then the team, then to his family. As he expected, people weren’t entirely receptive. It took a few years for Will to not feel awkward around his parents at holidays, but, eventually, everything returned back to “normal.” Will was convinced that Bitty knew how he would respond to a situation better than he would.

He finished grading the assignments for the day, turned out the lights of his classroom, and left for the gym. As he was walking out of the front door of the school, he felt his phone buzz twice.

 

_Eric Bittle-Zimmerman_

_Link: Facebook - D.M. Nurse “Excited to announce…”_

_did you see this??_

 

Will hadn’t. He secretly unfollowed Nursey years ago. They were still friends, so that awkward conversation wouldn’t have to happen, but Will couldn’t really see the things Nursey was doing without wanting to spend hours on his profile, looking over his pictures, searching for his new tattoos, going into the rabbit hole of who he was posing in these pictures with. It was all too much and Will was far too busy to deal with any of that.

 

_No_

 

He clicked the link and saw Nursey’s post. “D.M. Nurse” was so pretentious. He was coming out with a new book, _The Skeletons of Bushwick._ His first two books had achieved some notoriety, so he had a following. 12.3k people on Facebook had already liked the post. There were a few links to critics’ reviews of the book, but Will ignored it. He went back to Bitty’s message.

 

_What the fuck does he know about Bushwick? Or Brooklyn for that matter?_

_He’s literally lived in a Brownstone in Manhattan his whole life. Now he’s in Harlem. Def not Brooklyn._

_I still hate that he goes by “D.M. Nurse”_

_That’s not him Bitty._

_I swear to GOD_

 

_sorry honey_

_i tried to wait until the end of the school day because i knew it would kinda set you off_

_are you okay?_

 

_I’m fine. There’s nothing I can do. I’m being mad for no reason._

_This is stupid. I’m stupid. I’m going to the gym._

 

_ur not stupid dex_

_ur a human with emotions and feelings_

_i can come into town tomorrow if you want me too_

_jack’s on a roadie, the magazine’s heading to print, so i’m free_

 

Will was now at the gym. He was about to plug into his phone and get out all his stress in this workout. He looked at the phone. Will 8 years ago would’ve told Bitty he was fine and to not worry about him. But Will today knew that emotional maturity meant reaching out when he couldn’t comprehend everything entirely alone.

 

_If it isn’t too big of a deal, I would appreciate you here._

_I know it’s silly I get this way about him whenever I get any type of news about him._

_But I appreciate it._

 

_dex_

_it isn’t stupid_

_y’all have your skeletons_


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments and kudos! I don't want to set a day for updates so that I don't let you guys down, but rather, just updated when it happens. 
> 
> Also, I loved the teacher comments. As a teacher myself, it's interesting to see how other people feel about our job. For this story, I have Dex working at a Public Charter School like myself, so a lot of these experiences are different than what I've observed in the typical public school setting. 
> 
> Anyway, let me know what you think. 
> 
> Thanks, 
> 
> JR

_Michelle, I feel terrible. I need a sub for today._

_There’s work on my desk for the kids._

 

_You got it, Will. Thanks for letting me know. We’ll get a sub in there._

 

Will walked, head-down, in the hotel hallway. He had always had a habit of staring at his feet. He could remember walking with his mom in Macy’s in the Portland mall, on their annual trip to buy new school clothes. Macy’s had a teal tile pattern on the floor. The hotel Bitty was staying had a carpet simultaneously generic, yet unlike any hotel carpet Will had ever seen. Most hotels were like that. He didn’t want to dwell on the reasoning and implications behind why he stared at his feet when he walked, so, he picked up his head to distract him. Bitty was in Room 734 and Will was nearly there.

He quickly knocked on the door and waited for his best friend. The door opened a crack at first, then flew open. Bitty called out, “Dex!”, then immediately to the phone he was holding to his ear, "Daniella, hold on a second." For as many times as Dex told Bitty to go under when they hugged, he never listened, so, now Dex found himself awkwardly crouching to keep his arms and much larger frame underneath Bitty’s arms.

He was wearing a Samwell Alumni sweatshirt and a pair of boxers that had the University of Georgia logo all over it. His hair was up in a towel and his BlackBerry was digging into Dex’s shoulder. This was quintessential Bitty.

Will could hear a distant voice on the phone, so Bitty broke up the hug and pulled his phone to his ear, “Daniella, that all sounds fine. I trust you. Just email me the final final final version of it. Yes. By tomorrow. Can you do noon? I’m going to be at QVC all day. Okay. Thank you.”

Dex was always amazed at this part of Bitty. He obviously knew there was the sweet, proper, Southern boy that had grown up in rural Georgia. But he also knew there was a busy savvy, hard-working, and endearing part of Bitty that made everyone around him work harder, and work harder for him, especially. This was why, Dex thought, Bitty made such a good captain.

“Hi, honey,” Bitty cooed again as he ended the call, “sorry, that was something about the magazine.”

“You’re fine. I'm glad you're here!”

"Me too, sweetheart." 

Dex walked in and saw Bitty’s set up on the coffee table of his hotel room. He had his laptop out and open with about 8 different visible screens overlapping each other. There were recipes, articles-in-progress, and pictures all over the screen. His personal iPhone was next to his computer and now he had placed his work BlackBerry next to that. On the couch behind the coffee table, Dex saw Bitty’s iPad. On there, he saw what looked like either another article or a book. _The Skeletons of Bushwick_ crossed his mind again. Bitty sat down on the ground and looked up at him.

“Is that what I think it is, Bitty?”

He smiled, somewhat coyly, and nodded.

“Nursey sent it to me. Well, to some of us, actually. Kind of a preview, I guess.”

Dex rolled his eyes and sat in the office chair at the desk in the room. He sighed, then asked the inevitable question, “so, how is it?”

“It’s really good, Dex. I started reading on the plane and I’m through the first 100 pages.”

Really, this wasn’t a surprise to Will. Nursey could write, and write well. Dex's junior and senior years were filled with Nursey reading beautiful literature with a frustrated, exhausted tone. Derek had told him that sometimes the only way he could get his thoughts in order was by talking to him. It had even gotten to the point that Will’s name had an anchor emoji next to it on Derek’s phone. It wasn’t a big deal though.

Now, he was curious about the book. He had secretly read Derek’s other two books. A few times. He loved them. It was like a conversation with Derek. He found himself rolling his eyes at the nonchalant narrators, reading every word anticipating the next excitedly, and, after he finished it, feeling fulfilled but wanted more. That was always Derek’s thing. Fulfilled, but wanting more.

“Do you want to read it?”

“No,” he started. Bitty stared at him, stronger than his mother would stare at him when he would steal an extra cookie and stick it in his mouth. “Yes. No. Sure. Not now though.”

“You should. Eventually."

There was a short pause. Dex knew what question was next. "Do you want to talk about anything?”

“Nothing we haven’t talked about.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t talk about it again.”

“I don’t know,” Dex started, when, really, he definitely knew. “I’m pretty sure we couldn’t be in the same room without either getting into an argument or fucking each other. Probably in that order. And then we wouldn’t talk to each other for another 5 years.”

“Is that what you want?”

“To argue with him and sleep with him?” Bitty nodded, “Fuck no.”

There was another short pause, then Will took a breath in and looked up to the ceiling in a hope to get through the next few words, “I just feel a lot about this Bitty. It’s a little overwhelming and I’d like to not talk about it anymore. At least for now.”

Years ago, Dex wouldn’t have recognized this version of himself. For 22 years he was someone who couldn’t and wouldn’t handle his emotions. They manifested themselves in acerbic words, physical fights, or, that one time in senior year, a complete emotional breakdown. After that “one time”, Derek had suggested he go to therapy. This suggestion was as close to an ultimatum as it could be. And Dex, with his unyieldingly stubborn nature, didn’t listen. He knew he needed it, and that he should probably go. He knew Derek was one of the better things to happen to him in his life to that point. He knew lying to himself wasn’t sustainable. But, for that time, it was. So, he lied to himself for two more years. Then, somewhat unceremoniously, one Wednesday, at 4:34 in the morning after an anxiety attack about an upcoming observation by his principal, Dex decided it was time. Nursey was right. He usually was.

So, he went to therapy. It wasn't a solve-all, but Dex saw it as a toolkit. His therapist would give him a way to solve a problem he encountered and Dex would use it. It didn’t work every time, but he gradually saw himself improving, so he figured it was progress.

“Okay honey. So, what should we do?” Bitty was always one to listen, but never push.

Honestly, Dex wanted to order some Thai food and watch _Pride and Prejudice_ and Nicholas Sparks movies. This was his usual go to when he found himself sad over a situation.

On the other hand, Dex didn’t want to bore Bitty and have him come all the way to New York just to sit in his hotel room with him and eat green curry and cry over _Dear John_.

Bitty could tell his wheels were turning. He narrowed his eyes, smiled, and said, “Do you want to order some food and watch _The Notebook_?”

“Oh my god, please,” Dex sighed.

Bitty ordered the food and queued up the movie. Dex relocated to the couch. After Bitty hung up, he looked at Dex. Will could tell he was about to say something profound. Bitty would get this look in his eyes about it.

“Can I say a couple more things and then I’ll be done with it?”

Will exhaled through his nose, “sure.”

Bitty turned to look at him from the floor. He put one hand on his knee and the other his ankle. Dex looked at him.

“Darling, I love you and I know that this is overwhelming, but I’ve never seen you as happy as you are as when you talk to me about teaching and your kids and your school and all of that. And I know you know this, but I’ve never said it to you directly, but Nursey’s the reason why. He was the one that pushed you to apply and do this and try it and he was the one that celebrated with you the most and the one that would talk you off of the cliff you would be on when you thought about starting this job and would get so overwhelmed. I know you don’t like thinking about it, but he’s an important part of you-- he’ll probably always be, Dex.”

He hated this because he knew it was true.

“I also think you should read his book.”

He also hated this because he knew it was true as well.

“Dex, say something honey. I feel like you hate me right now.”

Will huffed a laugh, “Bitty I couldn’t hate you,” he started, “everything you said was true. I just hate it.”

“That’s fair. Well, thank you for listening to that,” he smiled, “now let’s stop talking about this shit and watch people fall in love.” And so they did.

Later, with their green curry leftovers in plastic containers on the coffee table, Bitty asleep on one end of the couch with his feet on Will’s lap, and _Legally Blonde_ wrapping up on the hotel TV, Dex was nodding off. Bitty had ordered a couple of bottles of champagne from room service and claimed it was “from Jack!” and that “he sends his love!”, so they both ended up giggly and buzzed. Dex supposed these were the benefits of being married to a multi-millionaire athlete: the fancy hotel room so he wouldn’t have to sleep on a cramped couch in a more cramped apartment in Bushwick, the taking off on a random Friday to help out a friend, the bottles of champagne purchased without a second thought. Bitty never flaunted his and Jack’s wealth, but it was hard to not notice.

So, here he was, half drunk and half asleep. Just as his eyes started to fully close, Dex felt his phone vibrate three times in his pocket. He reached for it as gingerly as he could without disturbing Bitty’s feet. As he lifted his lap to grab his phone, Bitty stirred and moved his feet closer to his body. Dex frowned at that, but could now reach his phone much more easily. The buzz came from a notification about three new text messages from a number he didn’t recognize. He opened his phone to see what they said, thinking it was maybe a parent asking about an assignment or a grade.

 

_hi dex_

_it’s nursey_

_how’re you?_

 

He felt his breath get short. He hadn’t talked to Derek or seen him in years. He wasn’t sure why he still had his number. Dex thought about waking Bitty up to see what he should do, but before he could, his champagne-riddled conscious took over his fingers.

 

_Hi Nurse._

_I’m fine. A little drunk._

_I normally wouldn’t respond to you, but, ya know. Lowered inhibitions._

_How’re you?_

 

_LOL_

_i understand will_

_i’m good :-) the book and everything about it literally takes all of my time_

_it kinda sucks_

 

Dex thought to himself, “he still texts the same.”

 

_You know that you text the same way you did forever ago, right? Like you’re still 21…_

 

_maybe i am ;-)_

 

_You’re annoying._

_But, I heard about the book. Congrats._

 

_thank you :-) that means a lot_

 

_Sure._

 

_i mean it_

 

_One thing though--_

_What the fuck do you know about Bushwick?_

 

_you_

_LOL_

 

_-_-_

 

_BUT_

_i really texted you for a reason_

 

_What’s that?_

 

_i want you to read it_

 

_Really?_

 

_please_

_i know you read the last two_

_chowder told me_

 

_Goddamnit, Chris._

 

_LOL HE MEANS WELL DEX DON’T HATE HIM_

 

_We’ll see._

_But, sure, I’ll read it._

 

_really?_

_yay!!! :-))))_

_i’ll email it to you_

 

[ _william.poindexter@kippnyc.org_ ](mailto:william.poindexter@kippnyc.org)

 

_thank you_

_i have to hear what the teacher of the year thinks about it_

 

_How’d you hear about that?_

 

_friends_

_the paper_

_we live in the same city ya know_

 

_Right. Well. I’ll read it. Eventually._

 

Dex typed “ _You know, you’re the reason I’m a teacher, right? Like I only did English to impress YOU.”_ but erased it. Too brazen, not enough champagne.

 

_you’re surprisingly coherent for how drunk you claim to be_

_but then again_

_you always were coherent when drunk_

_probably your most coherent, actually_

 

_Compliment?_

 

_eh, sure, let’s call it that_

 

There was a short pause before Dex typed and sent his next message.

 

_Why are you texting me like nothing’s changed?_

 

_it really hasn’t dex_

_not for me at least_

 

Dex didn’t know how to respond. Luckily, he didn’t have to.

 

_anyway_

_i sent you the book_

_it’s in your inbox now_

_please read it and tell me what you think dex_


	3. Chapter Three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the love y'all!
> 
> I must say, I'm either writing Dex into myself, or we're more alike than I realized....
> 
> XOX, JR

_ Chris.  _

_ How often do you talk with Nurse? _

Dex dropped his phone onto his chest and dropped his head back onto the couch. He closed his eyes and listened to the water running in the shower. Bitty had woken up and unintentionally kicked him when he stretched his legs. After he realized what he had done, Bitty sat up and hugged Will and kept apologizing with a voice half-asleep. He had a QVC spot later in the morning, so he had to get an early start. His car was coming to the hotel in less than an hour to whisk both of them to breakfast, then to Bushwick to drop off Dex, and then to take Bitty to West Chester by 10:30. So, it was an early morning for Dex. 

He had already scrolled through his messages with Nursey three times and checked his email four. There was the book. A literal skeleton in his inbox. To say Dex was embarrassed about last night was an understatement. An apology message had already been typed out six times, and all six times, this message was erased with frustration. 

 

_ Good Morning Dex ^_^  _

_ Nursey? Geez well, I guess like once a week? _

_ We FaceTime!  _

_ Nursey says he just wants to see my face ^_^ _

_ Why???????????? _

 

_ Did you tell him I read his books? _

 

_ @_@ _

_ Maybeprobablydefinitely _

_ Don’t be mad :((((((((((((((((((((((( please :((((((((((((((((((((((((( _

 

_ Chris, I’m not mad.  _

_ What did he say when you told him? _

 

_ He was actually really happy Dex!!!  _

_ You know he always loved to know what you thought about his work _

 

Dex didn’t know how to respond. His first reaction was “absolutely not.” But, he knew that was a lie. Derek told him almost every time he would share his work with him how much he appreciated his opinion. Dex was typically unbiased and would tell him his writing was pretentious and haughty and Derek, supposedly, loved it. 

 

_ Are you mad :((((((((((((( please don’t be mad :((((((((( _

 

_ Chris, I’m not mad, I promise.  _

_ Also, why are you up? Isn’t it like….5 AM in Austin right now? _

 

_ Caitlin has an early flight from Portland ^_^  _

_ Got to go pick her up! _

 

_ Got it. Tell her hi for me please.  _

 

_ I will :)))))) you know she LOVES you right? _

 

_ I do and yes, she does.  _

 

_ She worries about you Dex :( she always tells me to see if you’re happy _

 

Before Dex could think too long about whether or not he was “happy”, Bitty came out of the bathroom. Dressed in a long sleeve Falconers shirt and black sweatpants with his hair still wet, he already looked like he was in a hurry. “You ready to go, honey? If we want to get breakfast and get you dropped off we better get going soon.”

Dex nodded his response, rose from the couch, and smoothed out the clothes he had changed into once he had woken up. Bitty gathered all of his bags and placed them near the door and called the front desk.

“Hi, can we get a luggage cart to 734?” Bitty started before the man could finish saying hello. “I have a shit ton of stuff and can’t carry it all down. Alright. Thank you!”

Bitty walked over and rubbed Will’s upper arm, “I’m sorry again about this morning. Jack says I kick him all the time.”

“Bitty, really, it’s fine. I’ve share spaces with enough people. Kicking is unavoidable.”

Bitty frowned a little at this. Dex had told him all about his “shared spaces”.

Dex’s whole life could be summed up by “sharing spaces.” He felt uncomfortable being alone. Studying was never a solitary act. It was hard for him to sleep in a room that another person wasn’t in. He only looked for 2 bedroom apartments in Brooklyn because he had never thought about being alone. 

This constant, and somewhat annoying, need to be accompanied surprised Dex for a few reasons. 

First, he generally didn’t like people. He believed most people were temporary. This was cynical, maybe, but, for Will, realistic. He figured, on an average day, he would interact with more people who don’t matter more than people who do matter. The people who don’t matter bothered Dex. Pointless conversation between adults was a waste of time and, supposedly, a necessary evil. Sometimes, Dex just wished he could go through an entire day without having a barista asking him how his day was or having to greet the girl at the front desk at the gym or having the bodega cashier at the corner ask him if he caught the Yankees/Knicks/Jets game last night. But, this fantasy was just fantasy. He had to make this conversation unless he wanted to seem impersonal or cold. 

Dex also didn’t understand why he had to be around someone constantly was because, inherently, he felt like he wasn’t a great person to have to be around. He thought of himself as a somewhat-lovable grump at best and an highly-irritable bitch at worst. 

But, maybe the most confusing reason was that he had grown up with someone there, always. The Poindexters were nothing if not fertile, having 6 kids in a span of 8 years with Dex landing as the last boy and with only Maggie younger than him. This meant their 4 bedroom home was a little cramped. 

But, it was the home Dex’s dad had grown up in and the home Dex’s mom took her Junior and Senior Prom pictures in. It was the house where he and Graham shared the bottom bunk while Jimmy slept on top for nearly 12 years until Andrew graduated and Jimmy moved into his old room. It was the house that became stifling on any family gathering because of the sheer number of Poindexters who lived in town and were invited for dinner, or a birthday, or a party. It was the house where Dex felt he could never stretch out his legs or himself. In short, Bangor, Maine was the world for the Poindexters and everything else was foreign. You couldn’t throw a brick far enough without hitting a cousin, a family friend, or a loyal patron of the Poindexter Repair Shop, owned by Dex’s dad and his three brothers. Trips to the store were hour-long affairs, with the majority of the time spent strolling along in the aisles catching up with the neighborhood. It was never a “keeping up with the Joneses”, but more so a “did you hear about the Jones boy?” This suffocation didn’t hit dex until he realized the first time he went out of state was for his visit to Samwell, and the first time his parents went out of state was for his graduation. 

And he had thought and read and believed eventually, we tend to desire the things we lacked growing up. So, maybe that’s why Will went to Samwell. To get away. To be himself. And, to an extent he did and he was, but what he didn’t expect was to find a second web of people to get caught in. An entire network of people who had expectations for who he was and what he would do and what he would say and what he would believe. He left home for home and found himself wanting to be around people even more than before. To feel validated in this assumed identity. 

This entire train of thought clouded him at breakfast. Bitty gave him a few concerned looks throughout the meal, trying, Dex guessed, to read his mind. Fortunately for Dex, it was early enough to play it off with an “I’m just tired.”

After hazily getting through breakfast, they were pulling up to Will’s apartment building when Bitty unbuckled himself and turned towards him. He wrapped him in a hug. A Bitty Hug™ as he had come to call them. They were warm, smelled faintly of vanilla, and expressed a lot of love. For Dex, they usually said, “I love you, you’re fine the way you are.” 

But, today, Bitty broke the hug after a few moments and held Dex by the shoulders. 

“Stop thinking so much about being happy. You’re not a machine that can be fixed, Dex. You’re a feeling creature. I love you.”

As he wrapped up his short statement, Bitty pushed a piece of Will’s hair that had fallen to his forehead back.

“I love you too, Bitty. Thank you again for coming up. It means so much.” Dex pulled Bitty back into a hug. After another moment, Dex broke the hug, “Alright. Go kill it on QVC. You’re gonna do great.”

“Thanks, puppet.” Bitty smiled and Dex stepped out of the car. He watched as the SUV pulled away. After it had turned out of sight, Dex began his ascent to his fourth-floor walk up.

As he unlocked the door, he felt an emptiness in his apartment. His roommate usually had music playing or was cooking on the stove or was cleaning something, so when he was home, the apartment was filled with white noise. Noticeably, it was quiet.

“Nate?” He called out, wondering if his roommate had stepped out. “Naaate?” 

Putting his keys down into their catchall, he saw Nate’s keys weren’t there. He usually got a text when Nate would be out, so he was starting to get worried. 

 

_ Nate, where are you? _

 

He kept walking through his apartment, getting to his bedroom. He put his work bag on his desk and kicked off his shoes. As he was taking off his socks, Will felt his phone vibrate. 

 

_ I could ask the same thing of you, MISTER >:-(  _

_ JK LMAO COULD YOU IMAGINE _

_ Dad’s boss got tickets to the Bills game back home. Got invited. Can’t miss it.  _

_ On the Greyhound now.  _

 

_ Oh! Cool! Go Bills! _

_ Who’re they playing? _

 

_ …..the Patriots. _

 

_ Oh….erm….. _

_ Go Pats! _

 

A Maine birth certificate also doubles as a contract to root for all New England sports teams, so Dex rooted, obligatorily, for the Patriots, Red Sox, and Celtics. Hockey was a little more flexible with Providence now having a team, but, in general, Dex rooted for the Bruins. All of these teams, however, were based in Boston and had intense rivalries with all New York sports teams. 

 

_ And you call yourself a New Englander.  _

_ I’m going to tell your dad.  _

 

_ Please don’t.  _

 

_ Fine.  _

_ Anyway, where were you yesterday? I heard you leave for work but you didn’t come home(?)  _

_ You get lucky? Get some booty? Some dick?  _

 

_ Ew. Gross. No.  _

 

_ Awe :-(  _

_ You’re kinda due buddy. How long has it been since you’ve felt the sweet embrace of a man? _

 

_ I mean…. _

_ Define embrace.  _

 

_ When was the last time you touched a penis/the last time someone touched your penis?  _

 

_ Are we really talking about this? _

 

_ I still have 4 hours on this bus Dex and I’m almost done with the book I bought. _

_ When was the last time? _

 

_ Ugh. Fine.  _

 

Nate was Dex’s first New York friend. Originally from Buffalo, Nate went to Dartmouth for college, and started with Dex at the same school, teaching 6th grade math. His enthusiasm and initiative were quickly recognized and he was now the Dean of Students for the High School Dex’s school fed into.  Nate was easy to talk to and even easier to like. For a moment, in their first year teaching, Dex thought Nate was the answer in moving past Nursey. But the awkward feeling after they made out at their first Christmas party defined their relationship as strictly friends. 

 

_ Will. I’m waiting.  _

 

_ Jesus H. Christ, Nate.  _

_ I don’t know. Do you remember the guy from Texas? _

 

_ The guy from Texas? Be more specific. _

 

_ Jesus, FUCK ME. _

_ He came over one night. He wore that gray hat with Texas on it. _

_ Wore actual boots. Like cowboy boots.  _

_ Asked you how you thought the Bills would be that year…. _

 

_ Dex…. _

_ ReaLLY?????? _

_ THAT WAS LIKE……….. _

_ TWO AND A HALF YEARS AGO.  _

_ REALLY?????? _

 

_ It’s going to be three years in January.  _

 

Daniel was a sweet guy visiting New York for the first time with his family. He was younger and was Dex’s first and only venture onto Grindr. Before he could finish kissing Dex goodnight at the door, the app was deleted and Dex began to think how deep he’d have to clean to get this-- this grossness off of him. It was nothing against Daniel. Just Dex’s overactive mind. 

 

_ So….you weren’t breaking your drought last night? _

 

_ No, Nate. I was not breaking my drought.  _

_ Still dry as ever.  _

 

_ You’re only dry because you choose to be.  _

_ I think you’re holding out for someone.  _

 

_ What does that mean? _

_ Who am I holding out for, Nate? _

 

_ Dex. You’re attractive. Don’t play dumb. I’d fuck you if it wouldn’t feel like fucking my brother.  _

_ Also, I’m technically your superior so that’d be….troublesome.  _

_ But, no, yeah. You’re attractive.  _

_ You know how many times I jacked off to you before we got closer? _

 

_ Wow! Too much! Please stop!  _

 

_ I’ll stop if you admit you think you’re attractive.  _

_ You sexy beast.  _

 

_ JESUS FINE. I am. _

 

_ You are what? _

_ A god? _

_ With flaming locks of auburn hair….. _

_ With ivory skin…. _

_ And eyes of emerald green…. _

 

_ My eyes are brown.  _

 

_ JOLENE _

_ JOLENE _

_ JOLENE _

_ JOOOOOOLEEEEEENE  _

_ (They’re a beautiful honey color, don’t sell yourself short.) _

_ I’M BEGGING OF YOU PLEASE DON’T TAKE MY MAAAAAAN. _

_ Link: Spotify - Jolene by Dolly Parton _

 

_ Thank you for that. I appreciate it.  _

 

_ But really. What are you Dex? _

 

_ Attractive. I’m an attractive guy.  _

_ And I won’t take your man (men?) _

 

_ Is that slut shaming?  _

 

_ Never. Just saying I would never take any of your guys.  _

 

_ You could if you really wanted to, Dex.  _

_ It’s not a big deal.  _

_ Dolly didn’t know what she was talking about. _

 

_ Dolly also wasn’t a gay man with 5 “dating” apps.  _

 

_ True. But why not? Want me to set you up? _

 

_ No, thank you.  _

 

_ Why not?  _

 

_ Eh....they’re not my type, Nate.  _

_ Besides, I felt weird kissing you and I’d feel even weirder sleeping with someone you slept with. _

 

_ :-(  _

_ I’m sorry.  _

 

_ For what? It’s not your fault….? _

 

_ I know. I guess I just feel bad that you feel that way.  _

_ I don’t mean to like….claim them.  _

 

_ I know you don’t. It’s just a "me" thing, Nate. You know this. _

 

_ :-(  _

_ You’re still hung up on him aren’t you? _

 

_ Who? _

 

_ That mysterious college guy you never tell me anything about.  _

 

_ Um.  _

_ One, I’ve told you plenty about him.  _

_ Two, I’m not hung up on him.  _

_ Three, what gives you that idea? _

 

_ Oh, I don’t know Dex. The fact you act like a Civil War wife.  _

_ Waiting for her husband to come home from war. Holding out. Holding back.  _

_ Also, you’ve told me like…..very little.  _

 

_ I’ve told you enough.  _

 

_ You told me he was your best friend and roommate. _

_ And that y’all hated each other. _

_ And then randomly hooked up at a party. _

_ And then y’all started fucking on the reg your senior year. _

_ And he helped you come out to your family.  _

_ And you caught feelings.  _

_ But didn’t think he did even tho HE OBVI DID. _

_ And you stopped it from becoming anything more than it was because you were scared. _

 

_ See. Enough. _

_ Plus some of that I didn’t tell you.  _

 

_ William. I thrive off of details.  _

_ Did you top?  _

_ Bottom?  _

_ Was he a good kisser? _

_ And fine, I inferred. Happy Mr. Poindexter?  _

 

_ Actually, yes.  _

_ And I’m not answering those questions.  _

 

_ Fine. You’ll tell me one day.  _

_ Also, you’re totally hung up on him.  _

 

_ So, what if I am.  _

 

_ So, what if you are.  _

 

_ I don’t want to think about it.  _

_ What book are you reading? _

 

_ The Skeletons of Bushwick.  _

_ It was suggested on Amazon.  _

_ It’s incredible. You need to read it.  _

 

_ So I’ve heard. _


End file.
